


Thicker Than Blood

by PogoChanXP



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Adorable Tony, F/M, Father son relationship, Hurt Peter Parker, Hurt Tony Stark, M/M, Past Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, Peter is a Little Shit, Peter is a Sad Boy, Protective Bucky Barnes, Protective Pepper Potts, Protective Stephen Strange, Protective Tony Stark, Pure peter, Sassy Peter, Science Bros, Tony Has Issues, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony adopts Peter, bruce just wants a nap, cute tony and peter, dad tony, genius billionaire playboy philanthropist, he misses his aunt, his kid is so smart, jealous Stephen, let them be happy, may dies, peter makes everyone love him within five seconds, proud dad, science bros who?, shuri and peter are the true meme team, someone get this man a panadol and some tea, stephen is so done, stephen is super gay, steve has no fucking clue whats happening, stop giving him coffee, thats what he is, they just want to make robots together, theyre besties, tony needs to chill, where were these tags going?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-30
Updated: 2019-06-12
Packaged: 2019-08-24 21:37:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16648277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PogoChanXP/pseuds/PogoChanXP
Summary: After May's sudden death, Peter is left in Tony's care, something neither are prepared for. What follows is madness, mayhem, a whole lot of fires ("no Stephen, we did not cause that fire in the lab, you must be imagining things"), and maybe even some romance.





	1. ✤ obsequies ✤

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry the first chapter took so long, school got busy...

Peter Parker was only six years old when he attended his first funeral. Hardly old enough to remember much of it, let alone the two it was held for. He had been dropped off at his aunt and uncle’s earlier that week in a rush, his Mommy giving a teary goodbye as though she’d never see him again. His young mind hadn’t been able to comprehend that they wouldn’t be coming back.

One thing he did remember was that it had been a warm day, almost sinfully bright for such a sad occasion. There had been many adults who gave their condolences, sparing pitying looks down at the young child who was suddenly an orphan. Peter vaguely recalls Uncle Ben and him leaving early to sit together in the park nearby. Peter had pretended not to notice when Uncle Ben started to cry.

He didn’t attend another funeral until he was ten. He had overheard Ben and May whisper about Mr Percy from next door’s trip down the stairs. They had said it wasn’t looking good for him, and suddenly Peter was crying. He liked Mr Percy, every morning as he left for school, he’d bring him in his mail, and in return Mr Percy would let him take a handful of his toffee candies from the bowl.

Peter was sad when he left Mr Percy’s funeral, the old man hadn’t known many people so very few had attended. He deserved better than that. That day Uncle Ben took him out with his bike and taught him how to ride it without sitting on the seat (but made him promise not to tell Aunt May). Uncle Ben also turned his head away conveniently when Peter started tearing up, something he was very thankful for.

It was four years later when Peter had to stand before a coffin again. God, how he wished it hadn’t been Uncle Ben’s. The guilt and anger had bubbled inside of his chest throughout the service, so strong he had barely the mind to grasp Aunt May’s hand tightly as she wept in silence over her lost husband. He had snuck out of his bedroom that night, adorned in his hastily put together costume, tuning out the sound of May’s sobs in the hopes of not turning back to comfort her. No, that night he had gone to find the bastard who’d taken his Uncle’s life. He wouldn’t kill the man, that wouldn’t be what Ben wanted, but he’d make sure the scum would be stuck in handcuffs for the rest of his life.

The months after Ben’s death, Peter desperately tried to ignore the muffled crying from May’s room, something that slowly happened less as time went on. The now smaller family of two began to heal from their loss. Things seemed to almost go back to normal, not including flying to Germany to fight Captain America and stopping an illegal alien weapons trade run by his prom date’s father.

Peter almost forgot about the sadness that would cloud over his life. It was like, as Spiderman, he could be something better, someone who had the power to save people.

But no matter how busy he was, he’d always fall right back into being Peter Parker, the grieving loser.

It didn’t seem like a lot, but death had followed Peter through his life, almost like it had watched him as he grew close to others and waited for the perfect moment to take them away from him. It had become a silent buzzing thought at the back of his mind. Everyone close to him seemed to die. Without ever really noticing, he’d distanced himself from the other students at school, kept only the few who he knew wouldn’t leave, became more careful about how friendly he was with others. He didn’t want to see anymore of his loved ones die.

This had been his life for over a year, he had closed himself off from the world, didn’t leave the apartment for reasons other than emergencies (school and Spiderman-ing, obviously), and limited his interactions to his aunt, Ned, MJ and Mr Stark. They were all Peter needed. With just those four people, Peter Parker was content, he was happy. He had everything he needed, and was sure he would be able to protect his small group of precious people. As Spiderman, he’d fight off anyone who ever tried to go near them, no one would hurt them on his watch.

Spiderman can’t protect people from everything.

 

It was a month after Peter’s sixteenth birthday that Aunt May got sick. At first it was just a bad cough, nothing to worry about, she’d assured him. But after a few weeks the cough only got worse, and, though she’d try and hide it, his keen ears would pick up the sounds of hacking late at night in the bathroom.

She told him to stop fretting, threw away the blood-stained handkerchiefs, flushed the red bile left in the toilet, acted as though she would get better with a few more days of rest.

 

 

Peter Parker attended his fourth funeral at the age of sixteen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay y'all, here's the deal. I wrote most of this on my mum's tiny ass laptop and it took way too much effort and made way too many mistakes. I don't get my normal laptop back until Wednesday next week and even then it'll be wiped so I'll need to put EVERYTHING back onto it before I can write. So I'm leaving you guys with this small, sad and shitty first chapter.  
> Please don't hate me uwu
> 
> ~Pogo


	2. ✤ requiem ✤

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Just a super short one this time, sorry! See end notes for more.

Tony Stark has been called many things over the years, a lot for good reason. Genius, childish, fuckboy, the works. He’s gotten his fair share of hate from his past and present actions, and he is comfortable in the knowledge that there’ll always be someone who doesn’t like him. It’s not a new concept to him.

 

What isn’t known about him, though, is his warm, one might even say fatherly devotion to a certain web-slinger. Honestly Tony hadn’t even realised that his feelings for the teen went beyond just mentor and protege, that all the nights spent worrying about if he would be safe out on the streets so late, or the constant planning of new, better defensive suits for the spiderling were more than just him making sure the kid wouldn’t get too banged up if he was brought along on any missions. He really truly hadn’t known that any of this was branching onto paternal protectiveness, after all, he’d never spent enough time with his father to know what it even looked like.

 

Despite not knowing how much he really dotes on the kid, he was still at least aware of how much he would do for him (that is to say, almost anything). It’s for this reason that he and May had met up for lunch a few months prior to her death. She had arranged it, said she needed to talk with him about something very serious to do with Peter. Of course, Tony had flown down as fast as possible.

 

“I won’t make this more emotional than it needs to be, I know how you are about feelings,” May had said as they sat down at a table in a diner she had picked out. “I assume Peter has already told you that I’ve been sick recently.”

 

Tony nodded.

 

“What Peter doesn’t know is that it’s more serious than just being sick… Mr Stark, I’m not going to be getting better.”

 

He could hear the shake in her voice as she tried to explain her situation. He could barely hear her with all the fog clouding his ears. She says something about incurable before he can finally find his voice.

 

“Why are you telling me this? Why not Peter? Shouldn’t he know?”

 

May’s face falls with both guilt and sadness.

 

“He became an orphan when he was six, we only lost Ben two years ago and he still feels like it’s his fault, even now. I’m all he has left… I just can’t bring myself to tell him that he’ll have to lose me too. I can’t --” May chokes back a sob and covers her mouth, tears sliding down her face like rain slides down a window pane.

 

“I didn’t call you hear just to tell you that I’m dying,” she says once she calms herself. “I wanted to ask for a favour, something that I know I shouldn’t ask but I don’t have anyone else to ask and --”

 

“May,” Tony says, “what do you need?”

 

She takes a breath and sets her face into one of firm conviction.

 

“I need you to look after Peter for me when I’m gone.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Soooooo, how y'all been? Uhhh so a lot kinda happened. Me and Zooks both agreed that us working on the story together wasn't really working; I can be a bit of a control freak when it comes to writing and we just weren't communicating well enough. No drama or hurt feelings though! Zooks said that she'll go on to write her own version and I can keep what I've started here. Because of that this chapter isn't very good. It's super rushed and kinda shit but it's all I had so I figured I'd at least give you all something. Sorry I've been so inactive on UTLLF btw, I have like little to no motivation for it right now but I've got most of the next chapter done so it should be up soon!
> 
> (Also don't worry the angst won't be forever, I just want to have a realistic grieving period and stuff)
> 
> ~Pogo


	3. Chapter Three ✤ mourn ✤

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger Warning: Mentions of panic attacks. Just want to be safe.

The funeral was modest, just as Aunt May would have wanted it. Mr Stark had offered to pay for everything, but Peter had turned him down. He knew May would have wanted as little as possible, she wasn’t one for a lot of attention. Pink carnations and gladiolas lined the simple coffin, a bouquet of amaryllis (May’s favourite flower) held in pale hands. The attendance was limited to Mr Stark, Miss Potts, Happy and Peter. Aunt May never really had time to make friends, she was always too busy working for enough money to sustain herself and her nephew. Peter really wishes she had more friends now, maybe they would have noticed something was wrong sooner.

Peter stays behind after the service is over, staring at the urn in his hands with dull eyes.

He’s alone now. The last person he had left is gone and now he’ll probably be sent to wherever the government puts orphaned teenagers. Would he still live in Queens or would they move him? What’s he going to do about Spiderman? He can’t just stop showing up, people will get suspicious. Would he still be able to see Mr Stark or would whoever his new caretaker be not want him interacting with the billionaire?

God, it’s only been a few days, and everything feels so wrong.

Unwittingly, his mind goes back to when Uncle Ben had died. It feels a lot like then, like everything in the world has tilted just slightly in the wrong way. Like everything is normal but also completely different. Peter wonders if, like Ben, he will ever get over May’s death.

He already knows the answer.

A hand on his shoulder stirs Peter from his head. Mr Stark looks down at him with a comforting smile.

“C’mon kid, we’ll take you home,” he says, but that doesn’t sound right because Peter doesn’t have a home anymore. His home is now burned into dust and stuffed in a pot. Correcting his mentor though would mean talking, so he follows the man outside and into a car.

 

The apartment is too quiet. There should be a radio somewhere in the living room, playing various stations. There should be humming from the kitchen as his aunt shimmies about with a spatula as a microphone. There should be smoke and yelling as said aunt burns yet another set of pancakes. There should be noise and light and life in the apartment, but everything is dead and silent and it’s too quiet for Peter.

Mr Stark told him to pack anything he needed, and he’d get someone to grab the rest later. He’d said he would be waiting in the car with Happy and Pepper and he should take as much time as he needs.

Peter stands in the living room for an hour before he can get himself to move any further.

He does the safe thing and walks straight into his room, keeping his head down to avoid looking at any of the pictures decorating the walls. He stuffs his school bag with a few pairs of clothes, mind on autopilot as he forces himself into the process of a sleepover. What does he usually bring when he stays at Ned’s? Would he be able to come back if he forgot anything or would he have to wait until it was brought to wherever he’s staying?

In the end he manages to fill his bag with mindless necessities such as phone chargers and his laptop. He pauses for a second at his desk, questioning if he would need his homework. He has to go back to school sometime, right? Or would he have to change schools now that he’s an orphan?

Christ, the word orphan has never felt so heavy. Before now, he’s always had someone to care for him so the fact that he doesn’t have parents has never really bothered him. He doesn’t have that anymore though. He’s the only Parker left, an orphan.

He decides not to bring his homework.

 

He pauses outside of May’s door, weighing whether to go in or give himself a break. May didn’t raise a quitter though, so he enters the room.

It’s the same as she had left it, organised chaos of a single working woman. A part of Peter whispers for him to lay in her bed, to look over all the small pieces of the room that scream May, but he doesn’t budge. He’s here for one thing.

There, sitting on her vanity ready to be picked up, is a small capsule necklace with a wedding band on the chain. Peter knows the necklace like he knows his own room. With delicate hands he picks it up, holding the pendant to his chest tightly. He knows whose ashes lie inside this necklace and he knows whose ashes will soon join them, and that very thought is what finally breaks him.

Tears fall in an endless stream as sobs shake his body. He’d managed to hold it together at the funeral and he’d lasted all throughout his packing, but this is too much. Knowing that his aunt is nothing more than dust ready to be put in a necklace. Knowing that his aunt’s wedding ring will be hanging beside her husband’s. Knowing that from now on, the only way he’ll be able to talk to May is by looking at a stupid piece of jewellery on a chain.

Peter’s knees hit the floor with a dull thud, but his sobs only grow louder. The walls of the room are suddenly too close, and the roof is too low. He can’t breathe, god, he can’t _breathe_! Why can’t he breathe?!

There’s arms around him now, he can feel them. Someone’s rocking him back and forth and they’re whispering something in his ear but it’s like he’s underwater. He’s drowning. He can’t breathe and he’s drowning and May’s _dead_!

And suddenly it’s like his head’s above water. He can hear everything again, but it’s all so loud and _why can he still not breathe_? There’s a hand rubbing circles on his back and a hand running through his hair, something May does whenever he’s upset but it’s not May whose holding him, he _knows_ that. He knows. But it still manages to stop his heavy gasps for air and bring him back to reality. Reality where his aunt is dead and he’s crying on her bedroom floor.

It feels too hard to look up and not see May, but he does, and he sees Tony. It brings a fresh wave of tears to his eyes and he buries his head back into the man’s shoulder. Maybe in a few hours he’ll feel bad about getting his mentor’s jacket wet, but right now it seems impossible to move from this spot, so he just leans even further into the man and lets himself cry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this was a fun chapter... Sorry about that. I just really want to be realistic about Peter's grief like I don't want to kill off his aunt and have him magically recover from that in a few chapters. This is going to be a long process for him but it's one he needs. I don't fully understand the amount of pain he would be going through and I never want to, but I've got no doubt that there are people out there who do and I don't want to undermine their experiences and issues.
> 
> That being said, I don't want this story to just be about death. It's a story of growth and recovery and one day, silly avengers shenanigans. It'll just take some time for poor Petey to get there.
> 
> Anyway, sorry for being gone so long! I really hadn't planned to leave this story for so long. I lost a lot of my groove for my published stories and it's taken some time for me to get it back. If I'm honest, this story isn't at the top of my list to update but I don't want to just abandon it either. We'll see how it goes, but I definitely will be completing this story, even if it takes me years (god I hope not).


End file.
